It was foggy. So foggy in fact that Thomas couldn’t see two meters in front of him. He wondered where he was. Snow crunched beneath his boots as a soft breeze played with his cloak. How did he get here again? He remembered shouting, mister Soles, pain and falling, but beyond that his memory was hazy. What was he doing here?

“Thomas?”

He stopped at the sound of his name. When he looked around however there was nothing but fog. “Hello?” The words were swallowed by the fog. Suddenly a sharp pain shot through his lower back.

“Thomas, I love you, come back to me.”

Anna? He turned around, but there was no one. Slowly he started walking again, if he just went a little further he would find what he was looking for. He didn’t know how he knew that, but he was certain of it. With every step he took the fog grew less dense, making it easier for him to make out where he was. The path he was on was flanked by fairy trees. As always they were in full bloom. He didn’t stop to admire their bright red leaves, there was a place he needed to be.

“We’re losing him, get the mage.”

He stopped again. That wasn’t Solestian. He shook his head, this wasn’t the time to get distracted, there was a place he needed to be. As he walked he didn’t pay attention to the ruins that seemed to surround him. Not that there was much to see, the ruins were completely overgrown by fairy trees and poison ivy. The snow beneath his feet gave way to a paved road. Strange, there weren’t any paved roads near Maplemore.

He followed the road until it ended in a large plaza. The plaza was circular, with a large fountain in the middle. The fountain however wasn’t what drew his attention. Three immense gates were sitting on the edge of the plaza. Slowly he approached one of the gates. It was made from some kind of black stone and depicted desperate people clawing at something which was hard to describe. Every time he tried to focus on it his mind seemed to shy away from it.

“Thomas, you’re here early. I didn’t expect you for another thirty years.” A cheerful voice said from behind him. Startled he turned around and saw a woman sitting on the edge of the fountain. He was sure she hadn’t been there before. “Not that I expect you to stay long, mind you. No, too many want to see you survive this, but I’m glad we can have this little talk. It might lead you to another gate when you finally get here.”

Suddenly Thomas’ throat felt dry. “Am I…” He swallowed. “Am I…” He tried again. “Dead?” She finished his sentence with a bright smile. “No, you’re not dead. Not yet anyway. You’re about to be though. Dead as a doornail. That is if that lovely girl holding your hand doesn’t make a terrible decision that will make her very unhappy.” Thomas looked at the woman dumbfounded. “She’s about to sign her life away to save you. To a very unpleasant character even.” Thomas turned around and started walking towards the edge of the plaza, towards the road he had come from. When he turned around however the three gates he had turned away from were right in front of him.

“I’m afraid it won’t be that simple.” The woman said, sympathy in her voice. “You’re not in control right now, best to let take things their natural course.” Thomas shook his head. “No, you don’t understand. I’m getting married, I have to get back.” The woman shook her head. Anger rose in Thomas. “Why are you keeping me here? I have to get back, she needs me!” The woman shrugged. “I’m not keeping you here, you are.” Thomas felt his frustration mounting. “Bugger off with that cryptic bollocks, I need to get to my wife!”

“Fiancé.” The woman corrected. “And as I said you’re not in control here. Neither am I for that matter, I’m just the gatekeeper, a guide of sorts.” The sympathy had disappeared from her voice, replaced by something cold and uncaring.

“Miss Anna.” Jared’s voice echoed from very far away, making Thomas look up in alarm. His Solestian was bad, almost impossible to understand under the heavy accent. “Sahir Chaim save Thomas.” Thomas tried to find the source of the sound, but around him the plaza was endless and serene. “This man can save him? Than why isn’t he?” Anna’s voice was closer, clearer, almost as if she was in the plaza with him. The desperation in her voice was overwhelming. “I have to get back.” Thomas mumbled as he ran around the fountain, searching for a way out. “Please! I have to go to her!” He pleaded, but the woman remained seated.

“Listen, your fiancé is about to make the worst decision she will make over the course of her life.” The gatekeeper said, voice serene, eyes colder than a midwinter night.

“Miss Anna, he need you to pay price.” Jared’s voice echoed. A cold hand gripped Thomas’ heart. He didn’t know much about magic, Jared didn’t like to talk about it. There was one thing that Jared had made abundantly clear. Mages were dangerous and all a little or very insane. “No, no, no, Anna get away from him.” He muttered. “How much does he want, I will pay. I will pay as much as he wants, but save my husband.” Anna said.

“You can stop her from making the choice, you know?” The gatekeeper said, kinder now than she had been a minute before. “All you have to do is go through one of the doors. I recommend you take either the green or the white one. The black one you should try to avoid.”

An inaudible voice said something, shortly followed by Jared’s hasty translations. “The price he wants is not money. He wants years.” Thomas turned towards the gatekeeper. “What happens if I go through a gate?” She gave him a sympathetic smile. “You die. Also you have little time, if you’re going to save your fiancé you need to do it now.” For a second he doubted himself than he answered. “Okay.” But as he said it it was an echo of Anna’s voice. “Okay, I don’t care, as long as you save him.”

“No wait. Anna? Stop! Don’t make a deal with him! Anna?” Thomas shouted, suddenly sure that she was about to make a big mistake. Suddenly the plaza seemed to be growing darker. “It seems that our time has come to an end. Try not to die before your scheduled date, okay?” The gatekeeper said cheerfully. “No, stop, I don’t want this!” Thomas shouted as he sprinted towards the white gate. Before his fingers could so much as touch the white stones the stone cobbles melted beneath his feet.

The plaza was collapsing beneath his feet. The world dissolved in pain and confusion. As everything became dark around him he locked eyes with a creature from a nightmare. Eyes that were puddles of blood, a mad smile of sharp teeth that was too big for the creature’s face, nostrils through which maggots crawled and a tongue split into four parts which all sprouted madness. He didn’t want to see it anymore, so he closed his eyes and let himself fall.

Ɏ

“Open hand.” Jared said. Anna, who was still looking at Thomas with fear in her eyes, looked up with confusion. “Sorry, what?” Jared opened his own hand. “Open hand.” He repeated. Anna just looked at him dumbfounded. “Why?” The man who had been working on Thomas, whose name she had heard, but forgotten instantly, snarled. Forcefully he grabbed her hand and opened it. In a practiced, swift motion he drew a knife and cut the palm of her hand. “Light.” She cursed as she tried to withdraw her hand. The man pulled it towards him, growling something in his own language.

“Hold still.” Jared said, trying to sound reassuring. The visius removed his glove, revealing a very scarred hand, letting hers go in the process. Immediately she pulled it back. She was afraid. Afraid of the man. Afraid for Thomas. Afraid of what was going to happen next. Smoothly the visius cut his own hand, black blood swelling up from beneath the skin. He growled something else. “Give hand.” Jared said. “Why? What is he going to do with it?” She asked, a tremor in her voice. “Give hand.” Jared repeated. “Sorry?” He half said, half asked.

“Not before I know Thomas is going to be okay!” She shouted defiantly. Red lights ignited in the black pools of the visius and a string of what she assumed were curses spilled from his mouth. Jared stiffened at the words, before replying in a low menacing tone. As the two talked amongst themselves Jared’s hand strayed for the hilt of his sword. The air grew tense and something was happening with the unfriendly visius’ blood.

Suddenly the tension disappeared as the latter turned towards Thomas, dipped his finger in his own blood and scribbled something on her fiancé’s forehead. The second he was done Thomas surged upwards, eyes wide open, gasping for breath. As fast as he had woken Thomas fell asleep again, crashing into the bed. The mage grumbled something and offered his hand. “See, alive, now, give hand.” Jared translated. Reluctantly she reached out to the mage, who gave her a look of contempt as he grabbed her arm and drew him towards him.

“You’re not going to drink it, like some kind of vampire, are you?” She asked suspiciously. More contempt. He pressed his own bloody palm into hers and started speaking gibberish. “This is unhealthy.” She commented, more to block out the sound of his words, which send tingles down her spine, than in search of conversation. “Sahirs talk sahar language. Very creepy. Nobody like. Except sahir.” Jared said, his dislike clear in his voice, small orange lights dancing through his eyes.

From between their joined palm started smoking. It smelled alluring, of spring, cherry pie and fresh rains. She wanted to reach for it and take it. “Don’t.” A cold voice said. “We never use the same magic twice.” She turned to look at the source of the voice, but couldn’t find it, the sound seemed to come from inside of her head. “Look at me, I’m mage Chaim of the School of Charar.” She looked at mage Chaim and he nodded. “How.” She said without the words ever leaving her lips. “How are we doing this?” Chaim tilted his head and smiled. “There is a long answer and a short one, let’s for now just say that it is magic.” Golden lights ignited in his eyes.

“You will find that I’m a most amiable master and an excellent teacher. You and I are going to do great things together.”

Ɏ

Inquisitor Ronald’s ass was aching. He wasn’t a man used to traveling long distances on horseback. He preferred to say aboard ships, Neyendalian ships specifically. Unfortunately, it appeared that when you travelled abroad you had to spend a lot of time in the saddle. Personally he despised horses and the feeling was mutual. On a professional level he understood the uses of cavalry and the necessity of their existence, but that didn’t mean he had to learn to love the animals.

“How much further?” He asked Ser Edward through gritted teeth. His dislike for the man had grown since they had left the boat. Not only was the knight more at home on horseback than Ronald well, at home, but the man gave him continuous tips on how to ride better. Absolutely insufferable. “Well, not much further, just three or more days of riding, I think.” Ronald was silent for five seconds. “You think?” Venom dripping from the words. “Well, inquisitor, the North of the kingdom isn’t as well visited as the South. Villages and towns are far and in between. The mapmakers never got around to properly noting down the scale of the area. So, by my estimates it is another three days, but it could be more or less.”

Any country was of course free to pursue the technology that they found most important. Grand philosophers like Geram Struithof were adamant where it came to the freedom of nations and generally Ronald didn’t argue with those, more brilliant, minds. However, in his humble opinion, any nation who couldn’t get their cartography sorted out didn’t deserve its status as thus and should be colonized and civilized immediately.

In desperation he cast his eyes to the horizon, running through several mental exercises to calm himself. Something interrupted his process however. “Say, Ser Edward.” He said, vaguely alarmed. The knight looked up. “What the hell is that?” The inquisitor asked, pointing at something on the horizon. The knight put his hand to his forehead. “I don’t see a thing inquisitor, perhaps you need some water?” The pinprick on the horizon became bigger and after a bout of shouting and pointing the knight too could see it.

“By the light.” He exclaimed, his face growing pale at the now clearly distinguishable shape in the distance. The company had halted as the distant figure became larger as it came closer. “Impossible.” Ronald said in complete disbelief. “Ser Edward, have I been driven mad by all your prayers and your general presence or is that a fucking dragon?” Even as he asked it he felt like a fool. Dragons were creatures from fairy tales. “I believe the correct term is wyvern.” Ser Edward responded weekly. “My lords, it appears that someone is riding the beast.” One of Edward’s lapdogs said.

One thing should be said about Solestians, Ser Edward excluded, they had good eyes. As Ronald narrowed his own he could indeed make out a figure on the dragon’s back. “He’s holding some kind of lance.” He said. “Somebody get me paper and charcoal.” He barked. Ser Edward gave a nod and a few seconds later Ronald was busy drawing. “What are you doing, the beast is approaching!” Ronald looked at the rider again, specifically the banner that trailed in the wind. “We might be able to save us all a trip if we can identify which nation that rider belongs to.”

The creature and its rider came closer and closer until it flew over their heads. “A real wyvern, as I live and breathe.” Ronald shook his head. “Bij de republiek.” Then he turned towards Edward. “We ought to have a serious talk regarding the strength of this invading army. Nobody told us about dragon riders.” Edward smiled at him. “Wyvern riders, inquisitor, wyvern riders.”